Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Shards To A Whole: Chapter 248

McGee-centric character study/romance. Want to start at the beginning? Click here.

Chapter 248: Friday

They were in the grocery store, and this time Tim was a bit
more focused on something besides all the iron he could stack in the little storage
area under the seat in the stroller.

Well, maybe focused isn’t really the right word. Not like
he’s got any great plan. He’s just looking to grab some things to eat and give
Abby some quiet time in the house.

But, for the moment at least, Kelly’s actually awake, eyes
wide, staring at everything, so he’s holding her against his chest, pushing the
stroller with his foot, ambling forward at about two feet a minute, and more or
less showing her everything. A quiet, steady stream of things like, “Look,
Kelly, Oreos, you’ll like them when you’re older. I like them, too. Which is
why we don’t buy them a lot, because when we have them, I like to eat the whole
box,” and other little bits of not exactly riveting conversation. But she seems
to like it, so he’s doing it.

Halfway down the housewares aisle, (They need more trash
bags, lots more trash bags) his phone chirped at him, so he fished around for
it, found it, and saw from Ziva: Just
wrapped case. Everyone heading home to rest. Shabbos tonight? Sunset is 8:37.

He sent back. Shopping
right now. Abby’s not here. Will ask if she’s up for it when I get home. Will
let you know then.

Good. Hope you are
coming. Want to see our girls.

What? Not me? ;)

J We know you’re okay. Want to see the ladies.

Then I shall try to
bring the girls.

Good. Though I have
the feeling see will be the operative word. $10 says Gibbs doesn’t let anyone
else hold Kelly.

Not touching that bet
with a ten foot pole. Don’t like setting my money on fire.

J Let me know when you
can.

When he got home, Kelly was napping, and so was Abby, but
she was downstairs, showered, dressed, and from the looks of it had eaten, too.

All good.

He carefully put Kelly in her crib, begging her, silently,
to stay asleep, and this time she did. So he headed down, put the groceries
away, and for the first time in ten days felt… normal. Well, tired normal, but this
could have just been any other weekend day after a long week.

That was kind of nice.

A few minutes later, Abby wandered in, yawning, rubbing her
eyes, then sat at the kitchen table, watching him stow the grocery bags.

“Ziva wants to know if you want to come to Shabbos tonight?”

Abby thought about it for a few seconds. “Yeah. I think so.
Haven’t been out in too damn long.”

Amen, Tim thought.
“Sunset’s 8:37.”

“So, we’ll aim to get there around eight?”

“Errr…” Kelly eats at seven, takes her about an hour to eat,
forty minute drive to Tony and Ziva’s… “Want to try feeding her in the car
again, or be late?”

“I’ll text Ziva.”

Or, at 5:15, after the four o’clock feed, burp, and clean
up, they can be in the car, heading toward Tony and Ziva’s.

They haven’t attempted to take Kelly anywhere that isn’t
baby friendly before, so, by conservative estimate they’ve got enough stuff
packed into the diaper bag to last roughly six months. But, you know, if you
don’t bring a whole pack of diapers and five clean outfits you end up with a
baby with explosive diarrhea and it’ll just be a hideous mess.

Better safe than sorry.

Hugs, kisses, Tony staring at him and saying, “Here, let me
get you a wash cloth, you’ve got something on your face,” and Tim wondering for
a second if he did have something before realizing Tony meant his facial hair,
and then shoving him, maybe a tad harder than was strictly necessary, took care
of the first few minutes at their place.

“So, you’re what, growing a beard?” Tony asks while Ziva
snuggles Kelly (and suddenly Tim understands why they’re here early, not only
is it a bit easier on the transport, but Ziva doesn’t have to wrestle Gibbs for
baby cuddle rights.)

“What do you think Gibbs is gonna say you show up to work
with that on your face?”

Tim rubs the eighth of an inch long, scruffy goatee he’s got
right now. “If it still looks like this in July when I’m coming back, I’ll
shave it off. Don’t need the guys in interrogation laughing at me.”

Ziva chuckles at that, handing Kelly to Tony, who holds her
like she’s a bomb with a mercury trigger and if he so much as breathes wrong
they’re all going to die. He sees Ziva take the challah dough out of the bowl
it’s been rising in, and says, “I’ll get that; you play with Kelly.”

She smiles at him, looking amused and cocky. “I am fine with
the bread, Tony. Enjoy some quality time with your niece. She won’t bite you.”

“In fact…” Abby took Kelly from Tony, and he visibly
relaxed, and then stiffened back up a second later when he realized she was
just draping a spit-up rag over his shoulder, and rearranging Kelly so she was
facing his shoulder. “Okay, just hold onto her, and keep rubbing her back, and
in about five minutes you’ll have a sleeping baby on your shoulder, and that’s
awfully nice.”

Okay, Tony’s never going to admit this to anyone other than
Ziva, but yeah, small person sleeping on his shoulder is kind of nice. It’s
restful and sort of lulling. He could easily see doing this, popping a game on
the TV, and just quietly zoning out into a nap.

But, as he knows from that afternoon he was at Tim’s place,
and all the time with Molly, who will be over in less than an hour, babies don’t
sleep all the time.

They get loud, and erratic, and sticky, and messy, and… And
he’s still really skittish about this. Sure, this part right now is going well,
and yeah, he’ll play with Molly, she likes getting tossed around, and will just
light up when he starts to chase her around the apartment. And, yeah, if
pressed, he’ll say he enjoys it, but…

But it’s still freaking scary.

They’ve been talking about a baby of their own more. The
kind of talking that’s supposed to have a plan attached to it, not just a ‘sure,
sooner or later’ sort of thing.

And tentatively, they’re thinking of starting on baby making
in January, when Gibbs leaves. That way he’ll have close to a year as team
leader to let that get settled in. Draga will have had over a year on the team.
Tim’ll be… probably gone by then. So with any luck they’ll’ve had their new
fourth for at least six months. Draga and the fourth will have had time to
learn each other. Ziva will be able to take the time she needs, and he’ll be
able to take a few weeks at least…

Sort of.

Kind of…

God, it’s a mess. If he could get his staffing taken care of…
If he knew when Tim’s leaving… If he could get his team fully sorted… But if
they wait that long, he is going to be seventy when this child goes to college.

Not that sixty-nine is much better.

He’s wanted his own team, with his own people, for ten years
now. But, of course, as soon as it looks like he’s going to have his team, half
of it leaves, and the other quarter is talking about having babies, and tearing
him between her and it.

Okay, gotta stop thinking about this, because Ziva, and
Abby, and Tim are noticing he hasn’t said anything in a few minutes, and they’re
going to start asking what’s up soon.

So he hops back into the conversation with, “Abby, did Ziva
tell you about what happened in the lab yesterday?”

And Abby, all but visibly leaping to defend her territory,
was on that story in a heartbeat.

Gibbs pulled into the parking garage under Tony and Ziva’s
apartment building, and was pleased to see the McGee’s Highlander there. He’d
purposely come a bit early, hoping they’d also be early, hoping to have a
little more time with his kids and grandkid.

He smiles at that, locking up, and heading for the elevator.

It’s been a long, long time since he got done with a day at
work (Tony and Ziva went home, he and Draga stuck around and waded through the
paperwork) and found himself looking forward to going home. Okay, technically
not home, technically Tony and Ziva’s home, but really, home is where your
family is, and tonight the family’ll be at Tony and Ziva’s.

There’s this… sensation… right now and he sort of, kind of,
vaguely remembers feeling something like this when he’d get home from
deployment and have off time. It might be satisfaction. Job’s done, bad guy’s
in jail, all the major paperwork is done. It could be peace. He’s not feeling
any need to run back to work to hunt down the next bad guy.

He’s actually pleased to have down time. Down time means he
can have a good dinner, play with the kids, go home, sleep some, probably time
to go get the wood for baby Palmer’s crib, they’ll know if it’s a boy or girl
soon, right? Maybe see if Jimmy and Breena want to come over at some point
tomorrow and talk about designs for it. Definitely going to make sure he gets
over to Tim and Abby’s for at least some of Saturday and Sunday. And Sunday
means bootcamp, got Jimmy and Ziva for that, though maybe if Breena feels like
spending some time with Abby, he can get Tim along on that, maybe not, got to
see how tired he is…

And as he’s thinking that, as he’s planning his weekend, it
hit’s him this is the first time in… really, since Shannon and his Kelly died,
that he’s not focused on the next case. First time he’s not chasing
retribution. First time he feels like he can really rest.

He thinks about Mexico with Mike, and about how whenever he
called, Mike came back, and he feels the difference. When he was in Mexico he
bounced from one project to the next to keep himself busy. Yeah, he liked the
work, but he wasn’t doing it because he liked it, he was doing it to shut his
mind up.

And Mike came back every time Gibbs called for the same
reason. Sure cervesa and senoritas made Mike happy, but the work gave him
purpose. And he needed that purpose. But when the work wasn’t right anymore, he
couldn’t do it. But family comes first, and you always go in when your family
needs you, and if Gibbs calling gave him that loophole, he jumped on it.

The door to the elevator opens and Gibbs realizes that his
purpose is shifting, he’s moving from cop to grandpa, and the need to shut down
the bad guys will always be there, that this job is good and useful and… just…
right. But it’s not his whole life anymore.